Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: From Primitive Era Chieftain to Cosmic Emperor
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Now that I'd made the bow, it was time to test it.
Even with obsidian arrowheads, I wondered if they'd actually penetrate properly.
As I stood in front of a tree for a demonstration, the people working nearby gradually stopped what they were doing and gathered around.
Humans are curious creatures, after all.
A new weapon had been created, so of course they'd be curious.
I took a deep breath in front of the tree.
The cummerbund pressed firmly against my stomach.
The stinging pain had mostly subsided by now—no doubt thanks to the regeneration effect I'd customized.
Intense tension.
The bowstring bent as if it might snap.
The durability didn't look all that impressive, but it seemed sturdy enough to withstand a few battles.
Twang!
The arrow flew off quite sharply.
Thud!
The arrow tore into the bark and embedded itself about half a handspan deep.
"Wow!"
"That's a powerful weapon!"
"Whirlwind is smart, no doubt about it!"
My shoulders couldn't help but puff up with pride.
Hearing a primitive call me smart felt better than I could've imagined.
I needed to draw out cheers like this more often from now on.
That was the only way to achieve deification.
I approached and touched the arrowhead.
The edge of the obsidian was finely chipped, with black fragments peeling off like vinyl shards.
Sharp, but prone to splitting—that was its drawback.
This arrowhead had been made by chipping off a chunk of obsidian and sharpening it, so it had its limits.
I selected a second arrow. This time, targeting the moist, living wood next to the mark.
Twang!
Thud!
The thin edge of the arrowhead splintered, leaving small black fragments on the surface.
It could probably be reused, but it wasn't delivering the destructive power I'd hoped for.
Obsidian arrows were essentially one-use.
Even if recovered, the heads would need sharpening.
Next, I tried the stone and bone tips.
These were genuine handicrafts, ground by the women using manual labor.
Thud!
They didn't penetrate as deeply, but they seemed reusable two or three times.
"Black Stone!"
"Yes, the smart Whirlwind!"
"We need to mass-produce... no, make a lot of bows. That way, you can practice too."
"Can we use these too!?"
"Of course."
"Merciful Whirlwind!"
The primitives' morale was sky-high.
They must have assumed only the chieftain could wield such a weapon tied to martial power. Wrong.
Could one chieftain rampaging alone survive this brutal world?
No disagreement that I had to be the strongest, but that didn't mean handling everything solo.
War and even hunting were impossible alone.
This practice session was enough.
With the new weapon(?) made, it was time to put it to use.
In this era, hunting was both a matter of survival and a miniature military drill.
Stealthy maneuvers, primitive hand signals through gestures, encirclement, strikes.
It excelled at building physical strength, agility, teamwork, and senses.
Historically, it wasn't for nothing that kings and generals treated hunting as training.
The nomadic horse tribes of the plains learned phalanx formations and interval control by driving game with vast encirclements. Settled peoples honed their coordination through annual grand hunts.
As the era's sole intellectual(?), I decided to turn hunting into military training.
More precisely, to adopt the strategies from Primitive Era Online wholesale.
Divide hunting participants into three teams: drivers, blockers, and strikers.
It was too soon to arm the 'Yellow Tribe' folk, so they handled driving.
They spread out in a crescent facing upwind, making noise with sticks or scraping bushes.
No gongs or drums, so it couldn't be helped.
The blockers formed a V-shaped funnel narrowing into a chokepoint—a 'kill box' made of crude fencing from dead branches.
The primitives weren't stupid; this would teach them the importance of luring and ambushing.
The strikers hid downwind with bows and spears, in the direction the reindeer would instinctively bolt.
I simplified hand signals to three: palm down for halt, two fingers to eyes for observe, sweeping arm in a wide arc for encircle.
No whistles, so I added tongue clicks: double click for danger, long whistle for rally.
Crude as hell, but having signals versus none would make a life-or-death difference.
Hand signals from my army days—I'd teach them in spare time.
The primitives moved forward boldly.
Target: reindeer.
A lone male separated from the herd, grazing with massive antlers.
It looked hefty enough to feed us well if caught.
Wind from northwest.
We approached from southeast, closing distance slowly to avoid scent.
Wet moss, beastly musk from old fur, salty earth carried on the breeze.
"Let's go."
The drivers scraped bushes and clacked dry sticks.
Birds burst into flight with a flutter; the reindeer's ears twitched at the sound.
Crack!
The moment it moved.
Twang!
Thwack!
Lucky shot.
The arrow sliced diagonally into the soft flesh behind its shoulder.
Flesh parted, blood sprayed.
It staggered briefly, then exploded into flight.
"Woo-argh!"
The drivers fully herded the prey now.
The reindeer veered toward the narrow pass as intended.
It'd be skewered by spears in the kill zone.
A sudden thought hit me.
'Wish we had dogs.'
With blood scent spreading and thick underbrush, dogs performed best.
Origins of dogs have many theories.
One: humans tamed wolf pups, breeding only the docile over generations.
Another: timid wolves exiled from packs survived by joining humans.
Over generations, survivors grew milder and domesticated.
Doesn't matter which; mutual benefit leads to useful dogs.
In this forest, dogs could've hounded the wounded reindeer's rear relentlessly.
'Dogs were essential in Primitive Era Online too.'
For today, we'd make do with manpower.
Meanwhile, the reindeer entered the kill zone.
Blockers stabbed its flank on cue.
Most missed, but one plunged deep, inflicting a mortal wound.
I nocked a second arrow.
This one for just below the neck, between collarbone and shoulder.
Thwack!
Blood didn't fountain; instead, a gurgling death rattle.
Lung punctured, it thrashed.
I charged in, thrusting my wooden spear into its throat to finish it.
The primitives watched with eager anticipation.
Hunting was daily life here, but success this easy was rare.
Empty hauls were the norm.
I roared like a true primitive chieftain.
"Fresh meat tonight!"
"Uoo!"
Cheers erupted.
We bound its legs to a long pole and hoisted it.
The Yellow Tribe drivers weren't displeased either.
"Strong tribe! Good we were absorbed."
"We'll survive!"
I was satisfied too.
In the primitive era, war was routine, and absorption by the strong held no stigma.
Having endured successive culture shocks(?), the Yellow folk would soon fully integrate.
We reached the riverbank.
Butchering near the cave wasn't advisable.
Blood scent could draw wolf packs or other carnivores.
No idea the exact region, but dense forests always harbored predators.
The fiercest fighters: leopards or tigers.
Carnivores generally had territories, so less likely near human sites, but who knew.
Heavy blood could lure them.
Thus, process at the river and carry back.
Butchering was primitive routine, but they damaged hides—a problem.
No hide processing tech, so they undervalued them.
I skinned carefully to preserve the hide, stripping sinews long for separate storage.
Sinews for bowstrings.
Organs collected and washed too.
Key: drain blood thoroughly.
For now, rough handling, but back at camp, teach proper skinning and prep.
'Even leather armor would skyrocket defense.'
Gloves alone prevent countless injuries during labor.
Crude leather beat bare skin by miles in defense.
By primitive standards, anyway.
Need to teach smoking meat too.
Jerky same.
'Workload's exploding.'
Hence the need for competent aides.
幸い, Black Stone was experienced, smart—perfect staff material.
Today, spotted a particularly sharp Yellow Tribe guy; delegate to Black Stone for training, and he'd make a fine aide.
"Whirlwind! Butchering's done!"
"Good. Head back."
Even crudely, they wove leaf baskets for offal.
Drained well, so less blood drip.
I briefed Black Stone and others on tomorrow's tasks.
"A settlement?"
"Yeah. Settlement."
"We wander toward good lands—do we need that?"
"Hm."
I simply explained settlement's necessity.
Pastoralism and agriculture.
The primitives looked shocked.
Couldn't grasp 'raising' meat and food.
Smart Black Stone got it.
"Th-then we could lead more tribesmen and expand!"
"Exactly. Need a base to raise a proper army."
Primitives didn't grasp 'army' or 'raise,' but fine.
This tribe had era-transcending concepts implanted. Good enough.